The ‘F’ Word

The word I mean is FAT. Urgh. Even writing it makes me feel gross. I have this thing against it because, to me, fat is what you have not who you are in descriptive terms.

When people use FAT as a put down I just cringe inside, like the only thing anyone can say about someone is how their visual appearance doesn’t please those around them. Like someone’s visual appearance has anything to do with the integrity of someone, or how kind they are. It’s as pathetic as someone, in the heat of an argument, using a ‘ginger’ put down or even ‘four eyes’ if the person wears glasses. School playground material that should be laughable if it didn’t totally make people feel like crap.

Being called fat is something I know about first hand. If I had a penny for every time someone had said it to me, including myself, I’d be rolling in gold (OK, copper) and potentially a little bit richer than I am now (because, let’s face it, ain’t nobody getting rich of any amount of pennies). As a teenager it was something I thought I was; like I was blonde, I was a girl, and I was fat. Part of me. Part of my identity.

Looking back I don’t think I was in any way healthy but I was also in no way hugely over weight that I was abnormal amongst my peers. In spite of this I’ve always carried around the feeling of shame being ‘fat’ brought with it. When I hear other people use it I know what it’s like and I know how much of a lazy insult it is; it’s like when my brother calls me a bitch – at least try to be more inventive!

I don’t know, maybe I should accept that a word is just a word but calling someone out for how they look is the lowest of the low. Look, people know what they look like in the mirror. They’re either OK with it or they’re not but why, oh, why would you think it’s up to you to make them feel bad?